First Kill
by The Pyrat
Summary: Matt has waited four years for Mello to call him. But when that call is finally recieved, it isn't what he expects...


_A Matt and Mello fic, again, told from Matt's POV. I need to try some other points of view soon._

I was inspired by what was said in Death Note Volume 7, Chapter 61, Page 197. Apparently, when Mello joined that mafia family, he "brought in the head of a mafia boss even Kira couldn't kill". This probably would have been his first time killing someone, and I of course had to wonder how he accomplished it. Such wonderings resulted in this.

Also, Matt's hacking skills. Considering he was third at Wammy's House, he had to have been very intelligent, and it seems to be that he has an obsession with technology. I therefore imagine he would be very good with computers.

None of these characters belong to me. Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata created them I just write about them.

Reviews are to me as chocolate is to Mello. I adore them. I value readers' opinions very greatly, and critiques are loved.

I remember the night I watched him leave.

I pressed my forehead against the cold window, my vision blurred by the pouring rain, and watched that blond figure walk out the gate and across the road. A streetlight's orange glow momentarily illuminated him, but then he was gone. That angry little kid, dressed in his too-big black clothes, with his know-it-all smirk, gone. One small bag of possessions, and he thought he was ready to face the world.

But, that was Mello. Almost-fifteen years old and one bag of stuff was enough to support him through not just facing the world, but beating it down, then probably spitting on it for good measure.

Still, it wasn't easy watching him go, especially knowing that this time, I couldn't follow after.

The cell phone I'd had at fourteen wasn't very impressive. It was a fat old thing, a really ugly grey color and all scuffed up. The screen didn't work well anymore (since Mello had once thrown it in the lake near the orphanage – I'd luckily snatched it out before it sunk). One of the first things I did after I left Wammy's House was get a new one, a really nice one. So the old one went in the trash, but I made sure my old number didn't go with it. That number was the one Mello had, the one he would call, and of course he _would _call it. He just hadn't yet.

It was four years before "he just hadn't yet" changed.

I'd rented myself an old apartment, the only thing a guy working nightshifts at a gas station could afford. Some old furniture came with it; a bed, a few chairs, a table, and a fridge that had some problems, so I couldn't keep much cold stuff. It was a little three room deal, which I think must have been used for storage by the previous owners. There were empty crates everywhere, some dismantled mannequins, and some other junk that I just threw out. It wasn't the best place, but it wasn't in the best neighborhood either. It was the kind of place where a guy could get really drunk but no one would call the cops just because you were making a bunch of noise. It was the kind of place where you could walk down the street with a knife strapped to your boot and no one would care – they'd just keep their distance. The kind of place where guys would carry guns in their jackets, but wouldn't bother to zip them up because nothing would happen if someone saw the thing anyway.

Basically, it was a neighborhood where no one cared, which was my kind of place, because I didn't care either. I was content to have my minimum wage job and my junky apartment. I still managed to get _at least_ one new video game a month, even if I had to live off ramen for a few weeks to manage it. I had a car, an old mustang. I'd even managed to get it fixed up pretty nice. To me, life was good.

Except….the phone call I'd been expecting for four years hadn't happened, and I was beginning to think it was never going to.

I was trying to finish my last level of Mario Brothers before I had to get to work when the cell phone rang. It was on a crate across the room from me, so I tried to keep playing the game while making my way over to it and answering. It didn't work out too well, so whoever was on the other line was greeted by some colorful language and the sound of a little video game death tune. I immediately had the panicky idea that it was my boss calling. I was about to give a more proper hello, but the voice on the other end spoke before I could get a word out.

"Matt, turn on your computer."

I set down the GameBoy, holding the phone away from ear with a frown, checking the screen. I didn't recognize the number. The voice sounded a little familiar…

"Who's this?" I said, going back to sit on the couch. There was a strange click, then a crackle that sounded something like tinfoil, and only then did it hit me. "Mello?"

"Who did you think? Sheesh, it can't be like you get a lot of calls. Listen, turn on your computer. I know you must have one there."

"Not a lot of calls, huh?" I huffed, even as I turned on my laptop. "Well certainly not any from _you_. Four freaking years and you didn't have the time to say a quick 'what's up'? You couldn't leave a message? You know I'm not much of a talker, it's not like I would have kept you on the phone for a long time. You couldn't have called just to tell me you're _alive_?"

"Matt," he said, in a you-actually-have-to-be-told-this? kind of voice. "_Of course_ I'm alive. Come on, is your computer on yet?"

I sighed heavily. "Yes, it's on."

"Okay, I need you to hack into a security system for me and get the codes."

"You what?"

"I need you to hack-"

"I heard that! I meant – agh, never mind. Look, no matter how completely normal that request is, I can't just hack into someone's system."

"Don't tell me you've gone all moral?"

"Moral has nothing to do with it, man. I don't know where you are. There are billions of systems out there. This is kind of short notice. Stuff like this needs some planning. What is it, a bank?"

"No."

"Oh, of course. How stupid of me-"

"Would you shut up? I'm thinking!"

If only he'd been there. I was glaring pretty good right then – he probably would have been impressed by just how good it was. "This is a bizarre call ya' know."

"Shut up!"

I didn't say anything else, just sat there and listened to that chocolate crunch and tinfoil crackle. Still, irritating as this was, I was relieved. Mello was alive and, seemingly, well. Still, I wished he could have called for something other than for me to just do a job for him.

I waited several minutes, then said, "Look, Mel. Whatever you're trying to do, you aren't prepared. Can't you put it off a few days? I want to help, just give me time."

"I guess," I heard him sigh heavily. The way he sounded made him seem nervous. "I guess it can wait. I need this done Matt. Three days, alright?"

"Sure, man. We'll get it done."

By the next day, we'd (ahem, _I'd_) gotten our computers connected. Mello described the system to me. He said he thought it was pretty basic, just a big house's security system. He wouldn't tell me who it belonged to, or why he wanted to hack it. Not that I really cared, but I was curious. If Mel had gone all criminal, that was fine, if that was his thing. I didn't especially want to get involved in anything illegal, but since it was for him…

By day three we were as ready as we could be. I had only a little more information now. He'd told me he was in L.A., and that was about it. Since a little on-site computer knowledge was still required, I'd gotten Mello to bring along a camera so I could get a live stream to my laptop. Then I could guide him through getting his computer into the system, and then it would be easy for me to access all the information needed.

We had our cell phones on, and I heard him say on the other line, "Okay, I'm there." There was the sound of an engine being shut off, a motorcycle I guessed, and judging by its purr it had to be a pretty sweet ride. I wondered briefly how he was getting money. But no time for that now.

"I'm hooking up the camera," he said, amidst the soft click of plugs being put into place, and a little window popped up on my screen.

"Alright, I've got it." I enlarged the window. There was nothing but static for a moment, then a blurred picture appeared. A vague figure could be seen, adjusting the camera, and suddenly it came into focus.

"Wow, nice leather Mel," I said, grinning. "Pretty sexy." I flicked on my own camera, and watched his eyebrows go up slightly.

"Please tell that's not the same old ragged prison shirt," he said.

"It's not! I bought another one…" I mumbled. Personally I liked my "prison shirt". Black and white were two colors I knew wouldn't set-off my red hair in a bad way. "Way to add some color to your wardrobe, man. Black and more black. Oh, and a red necklace. Bold." I squinted. "What is that around your neck anyway? You catholic or something?"

He didn't give a reply to that. It was especially dark where he was; he seemed to be pressed against a stone wall of some kind. There were plenty of weeds, and judging by the ancient look of the wall, whoever he was trying to rob probably wasn't very rich. Or if he wasn't trying to rob them, he was going after a shady character who wished to remain inconspicuous, and therefore didn't want a fancy yard.

"You got the system box there?" I said. He took hold of the camera, moving it up behind him so I had a view of the security box just in front of him. "Oh yeah, basic stuff, man. You're going to want to open up the base. There'll be a bunch of cords."

I walked him through it. He was quick, not that I'd expected any less. It didn't take long, and I soon had full access to the system. "Alright, hold tight. I'll have the codes to you in…let's say, two minutes. Clock me."

He rolled his eyes, but I saw him set his watch, and I went to work. No time to marvel over how much older he looked, and yet how much the same. He wasn't the angry little blond kid that had walked off into the rain four years ago, but he wasn't far off. He was just an angry blond man now.

"Got it," I said triumphantly. "Time."

"Not bad. A minute and thirty seconds. Pretty slick."

I grinned, reading him off the code. He put it in, and the security system instantly blinked off.

"Thanks for that. I have to go," he reached to shut off the camera, but my near-screech stopped him.

"Don't you dare!" I actually grabbed hold of the laptop, as if that would stop him. "You can't just disappear again that easy! What are you even trying to do?"

He sat back a moment, running a hand through his hair and sighing heavily. "I have to do _something_ Matt. Near is getting closer to Kira every day. I can't let him beat me. This is the only way."

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"I have to get into the mafia."

I just stared at the screen a moment, unable to believe it. But he looked dead serious…

He went on. "There's a mafia boss here who even Kira hasn't been able to get to. If I can kill him, I'll be able to get into any family I want. I have my eye on one…they're strong Matt. They have contacts, ways I can get what I need. This is important for me."

I leaned back on the coach, amazed. "The mafia? That's rough, man. You're try to kill a freaking boss…you packin' heat?"

He withdrew a gun from his jacket, and my stomach twisted. I supposed I shouldn't have really been so shocked, but Mello, the kid I'd followed around all the time at the orphanage, the same kid I'd played soccer with, studied with…he was actually getting ready to kill someone.

He pressed the barrel to his face, closing his eyes. "I have to do this," he said, as if trying to convince himself as much as he trying to convince me. "I'll do anything to beat him…if this is what it takes…" He nodded. "I'll do it."

He hooked the camera back to the laptop and picked it up, keeping the lens facing him as he made his way around the building, toward the entrance I guessed.

"But I want you to see," he said. He paused, peering around a corner before continuing. "I'm going to do this, and I want someone to see that moment. Because this is something Near could never do. Just by being here, I've done something he can't. If I'm successful, I've achieved something he never can, and I want a witness to that."

I rubbed my hand over my face. "You really want to go this far?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

I nodded to myself. Of course. This was Mello. He wouldn't back out now even if he wanted to. He'd gone this far, he was going all the way.

I watched as he made his way inside, watched him creep through the dark, gloomy interior. Anyone would think the place was abandoned. There wasn't a single sign of life in the place. But, that was the problem wasn't it? If it was really abandoned, there would be rats and mice everywhere. But there wasn't even one. Someone was keeping up on the pest control. _Someone _was living in that house.

I wasn't even there, but I was getting chills all over. The only sound coming in over the camera was Mello's soft footsteps and slow breathing. Could it be possible that he was as nervous as I was? He'd kept his gun out, and suddenly the sound of an unfamiliar voice, then loud laughter, could be heard. He paused just short of a corner, knelt down and placed the computer on the floor, checked to make sure the gun was fully loaded…

This was it.

"Matt, shut off the camera on your end," he whispered. "If I fail, I don't want him catching a glimpse of your face."

I couldn't answer; that would risk being heard. I shut off my camera, leaning close to the screen. Mello went on staring at the computer even after my face had disappeared from his view, continuing to hold my gaze before turning away.

It happened quickly. He stood up, shoving the laptop to one side with his foot, so that the camera suddenly had a clear view into the next room. It was the only room I'd seen so far that had furnishing, and certainly the first one that actually had a human in it, other than Mello. The mafia boss Mello had come for……he was a big guy, dressed nice despite his poor surroundings. He was on a cell phone, but his reaction time to seeing a stranger walk in on him was amazingly quick. He had a gun pulled in seconds, but luckily Mello had already been ready when he walked in. There were no words exchanged between them; Mello simply started firing, one shot after another, again and again. I hadn't thought it was possible, with all the gore I saw in my games all the time, but it sickened me. It really was different seeing a real person dying; just knowing that the blood spreading on the floor and splattering on the walls had come from a beating heart, a living body…

Mello used up every bullet he'd loaded, and even after they'd run out I heard his trigger click three more times. His arm dropped to his side and he stood silently, then I saw his shoulders move with a heavy sigh. He took out a knife and went forward, pausing to stare down at the body for several long seconds before kneeling down and beginning to cut through the neck.

"Oh, crap," I turned away, wincing. I'd actually just watched someone die. No, not just die, I'd watched someone murdered. Sure, the man was a criminal, but that didn't change the fact that he'd just been shot to death. Shot to death by the guy I considered my best friend. Mello…was a murderer…

I switched back on the camera hesitantly. Mello had shoved his bloody trophy into a large backpack he had with him, and its cloth was already red. How was he going to get away with carrying that thing around? He was coming back towards the computer, leaving the headless body of his victim laying sprawling on the floor.

"Hey…Mel…" I could see his tightly clenched jaw even with the bad lighting. His eyes were blank and dark. Hard, cold as ice. His hand reached up to the camera… "Wait! Not yet! What are you-"

"I'll call," he said, and the camera clicked off.

I sat there for over a minute in silence, just staring at the blank screen. So many emotions were going through me, and I couldn't figure out which one to settle on. He was crazy, he had to be crazy…but I knew that, I'd known it for years. But this was dangerous for him. The freaking mafia of all things? If I could just find him, maybe I could…

Maybe I could….

…help him?...

…protect him?...

….Maybe…

No. Not just maybe. This time I could. He'd left me with valuable information. His phone number was now in my cell. _I_ could call _him _now. I could find him. He couldn't just run away from me again.

This time, I could follow.


End file.
